


Touches

by cosmic_llin



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Acrophobia, Ficlet Collection, Friendship, Friendship but totally readable as shippy if you want to, Gen, Hair Brushing, Huddling For Warmth, Hurt/Comfort, Massage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-01-25 14:48:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 3,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1652528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmic_llin/pseuds/cosmic_llin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Self-indulgent hurt/comfort snippets. On the fluffy side. </p>
<p>I may well add more chapters now and then.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The Enterprise was recently launched, and it was only the third of their weekly catch-up meetings when a power failure knocked out half of the ship’s systems and left them trapped in Deanna’s rapidly-cooling office.

‘You’re shivering,’ Beverly observed.

‘Betazoids don’t like the cold,’ said Deanna. ‘I’m sure the power will be fixed soon.’

They hadn’t known one another long but already Deanna had noticed Beverly’s gently tactile way with her patients, the way it seemed to come naturally to her to stroke someone’s hair or hold their hand in whatever way would soothe them, so naturally that she hardly seemed to know she was doing it.

For Deanna touch was always a decision, a negotiation with herself - physical separateness was one way she maintained her boundaries in a small space where everyone’s emotions were always only a hair’s breadth away.

But it grew so cold so quickly that she couldn’t deny the sensibleness of Beverly’s suggestion, and so they built a little nest in a corner out of the cushions Deanna kept lying about for her clients to cuddle or throw, and they curled up inside it together.

Beverly was warm. After a few minutes Deanna burrowed closer to her.

‘Of course, in the short term the consequences are usually not that serious,’ Beverly was saying through chattering teeth. ‘Generally in Sickbay we’ll see a few small cold injuries, but nothing with any lasting effects. Naturally with longer exposure the chance of hypothermia increases, and that can be a little harder to...’

‘Beverly,’ said Deanna softly.

Beverly stopped.

‘Wesley will be all right,’ said Deanna.

Beverly nodded. She pulled Deanna a little closer.


	2. Chapter 2

Being invited to meet the High Arbiter of Klorana V was an immense honour - Jean-Luc had impressed that much on Beverly. And it definitely couldn’t be declined without causing offense, no matter how much she protested. So here she was, with the rest of the senior staff, at the High Arbiter’s exclusive drinks reception to celebrate the anniversary of Kloran independence.

Kloran society was strictly hierarchical. In any room, the High Arbiter had to be above everyone else. But then the people one level down from him had to be above the next people, and so on and so forth, and what it all added up to was that Beverly was standing on a wide platform on top of a very tall column in the middle of a sumptuously-decorated cavern full of similar but shorter columns, with only an ankle-length safety rail between her and a plunge to her doom.

Nobody else seemed to mind, or even notice. Will was chatting in his usual easy way, the captain had apparently just made some witty remark to the High Arbiter himself, and Deanna looked perfectly at home talking with the High Arbiter’s daughter - but then of course she’d been born to this sort of thing.

She was nodding attentively with every impression of giving the young woman her full attention, but when she took a sip of her drink, Deanna turned and looked at Beverly, then gracefully excused herself and came over.

‘You’re pale,’ she noted.

‘I’m fine,’ said Beverly. ‘It’s just... it’s a little high, don’t you think?’

‘I think there’s a forcefield, Beverly.’

‘I don’t care. If I can’t see it, it might as well not be there,’ she said.

Deanna smiled gently. ‘Beverly... unclench your fists.’

Beverly looked down. She hadn’t noticed, but her hands were curled so tightly that her knuckles were white. She opened them up. Deanna slipped her hand into Beverly’s.

‘You can hold on to me,’ she said. ‘I won’t let you fall.’

Deanna’s hand was cool in hers. Beverly held on tight, until they beamed back to the Enterprise.


	3. Chapter 3

‘Deanna, wait a moment,’ said Beverly, as the senior staff rose at the end of the morning briefing.

Deanna swiveled in her chair to look at Beverly. ‘Yes?’

‘Do you want to tell me why you didn’t turn your head to the left once during that whole meeting, or shall I guess?’

‘It was mok’bara class,’ Deanna sighed, embarrassed to have been caught out.

Beverly tutted. ‘The last one was on Monday. Do you mean to tell me you’ve been walking around like this for three days?’

Deanna attempted a shrug and winced instead. ‘I thought it would go away by itself.’

Beverly didn’t roll her eyes, but Deanna sensed her surface emotions so clearly that she might as well have. ‘Sickbay. Now.’

‘You know, you’re as bad as the captain,’ she told Deanna, as she found a hypospray and selected an anti-inflammatory vial. ‘This will clear it up by the end of the day, but next time it happens, _tell_ me instead of making me play detective, hmm?’

Deanna made a vaguely affirmative noise.

‘Some gentle massage would probably help, in the meantime,’ said Beverly. ‘Is that all right?’

‘Whatever you think is best,’ said Deanna with resignation.

They moved into one of the private side rooms, and Deanna pulled her hair forward out of the way and let Beverly roll her jumpsuit down a little to expose her shoulders. Her skin felt hot and tight from the base of her skull to her back, and Beverly’s hands were blessedly cool as they smoothed away some of the tension. She worked slowly and gently, and Deanna began to relax. When Beverly was concentrating she had a focus and calm that was as soothing to Deanna as anything she actually did.

‘No mok’bara for a week,’ said Beverly once she was finished. ‘Gentle exercise only. And I want to see you in here tomorrow for a follow-up, and if I don’t, don’t think I won’t page you over the public comm.’

‘Beverly...’ Deanna protested.

Beverly looked sternly at her.

‘All right, all right!’ said Deanna. ‘You’ll see me tomorrow, I promise.’

‘Good,’ Beverly smiled.


	4. Chapter 4

The tools in the medkit had been damaged when the shuttle came down, which was why Beverly still had two badly sprained wrists from hanging on to the edge of a console during the crash.

‘They’re supposed to make those things out of durable material,’ she complained, as Deanna finished with the bandages and splints according to Beverly’s precise instructions. ‘What’s the point in having them otherwise?’

‘Well, I’m just glad it was the equipment and not us that was irreparably damaged,’ Deanna said. She had managed to escape with superficial cuts and bruises.

‘Any luck boosting the signal?’ Beverly asked.

Deanna checked her commbadge, attached to a tricorder. ‘Nothing. The radiation from the damage to the shuttle is causing interference.’

‘We should get out of here,’ said Beverly. ‘The radiation levels will start to get dangerous soon.’

Deanna put a few useful things from the shuttle in a pack, and they spent what was left of the afternoon hiking across the hills in the hope of reaching somewhere where they could camp safely and attempt to contact the ship. They were keeping up a decent pace until the sun started to set.

‘I can’t see a damn thing,’ said Beverly, squinting in the twilight. ‘Perhaps we’d better...’

There was a yelp, and a splash, followed by curses. Deanna hastened in the direction of the noise.

‘I found a river,’ Beverly said.

‘I’ll say,’ said Deanna.

Beverly was sitting up to her shoulders in the water, with a rueful smile. ‘Help me up?’ she said. ‘I can’t push on my wrists...’

Deanna waded in a few paces and hooked her hands under Beverly’s arms to drag her up. They splashed back out of the river together.

‘I think this is probably a good time to stop for the night,’ Deanna said. ‘It’s getting dark, and cold, and we should be out of the radiation by now.’

Beverly nodded. She was pale. Deanna frowned.

‘You’re soaked through,’ she said. ‘I’ll help you get out of those wet clothes and we can make a fire and dry them.’

She peeled Beverly’s sodden jumpsuit off slowly, careful of her injured wrists. She rummaged in the pack for the blanket, cut a hole in the centre, and slid it over Beverly’s head like a poncho.

‘Sit,’ she said. ‘I’ll take your boots off too.’

Once Beverly was settled comfortably, Deanna went to look for firewood and returned five minutes later with an armful of twigs and thicker branches. She arranged them in a neat lattice and made sparks to light them using components from her commbadge. She spread the wet clothes out beside the fire and helped Beverly to shuffle closer.

‘I never knew you were so outdoorsy,’ Beverly commented, looking pinker and more cheerful already.

‘I’m full of surprises,’ Deanna grinned.

She sat down beside Beverly, so that their sides touched, and opened the pack again to find something for dinner.


	5. Chapter 5

They had been in negotiations for thirteen hours that day, almost without a break, and twelve the day before. They day before that... Deanna couldn’t even remember. The last week all ran together into one long, endless blur - half of it beside the captain at the negotiating table, the other half spent frantically looking things up, preparing notes and fact checking. The negotiations were tense, and the heightened emotions of the delegates were beginning to take their toll.

When proceedings ended for the day she excused herself as quickly as she could and had to keep herself from breaking into a run as she approached the safety of her quarters. When the doors closed behind her she thought of sitting on the couch or lying on the bed but the decision seemed too difficult, so she lay on the floor instead.

Her door chimed. Beverly.

‘Come in,’ she said.

The door opened. ‘Deanna, I know you’re probably too tired but I thought I’d see if you were coming to the concert in Ten...’ she spotted Deanna, on the floor at her feet. ‘... I guess not!’

‘Definitely not,’ Deanna confirmed, without moving.

‘Long day, huh?’

‘Looooong day.’

‘Anything I can do to help?’ Beverly got down on the floor beside Deanna. Deanna couldn’t have stood even a gentle shoulder pat right now, and Beverly seemed to know it. She just sat there.

‘No, it’s all right,’ said Deanna after a moment.

‘Are you sure?’

Deanna opened her mouth, then closed it again. Beverly gave her a look.

‘Deanna, you’re no use to the captain in these negotiations if you don’t take care of yourself, too.’

‘I know.’

‘ _So_ , tell me what you need.’

Deanna sighed. ‘I need... I need to come back to myself. I feel like I’m stretching in twenty different directions, like I’m just barely tethered to my body.’

‘And what can I do to help?’

‘Perhaps you could just... talk to me, for a little while? It doesn’t matter what about. It’s more about having a sound to focus on, to ground myself.’

‘I can do that,’ said Beverly. She thought for a moment, then spoke, her voice soft and low. ‘On either side the river lie, long fields of barley and of rye, that clothe the wold and meet the sky...’

It turned out that Beverly knew a lot of poetry. Deanna ignored the words and breathed in time with the rhythm, letting it bring her gently back to her physical senses. She closed her eyes and felt the hard floor against her heels, her thighs, her shoulderblades. Beverly’s voice pulled her to herself like an anchor, until she felt real again.

She opened her eyes. Beverly got to the end of a stanza and stopped.

‘Better?’ she asked.

Deanna smiled. ‘You have no idea.’


	6. Chapter 6

The Enterprise had crashed ten hours ago. Since then neither of them had stopped - Beverly had set up a triage station and a medical tent, organised crews to salvage what supplies they could from the remains of Sickbay, and spent the rest of the time seeing patient after patient with barely time to breathe in between. Deanna had made a safe area for the children and vulnerable crewmembers, herded them all there and done a head count, reunited worried families, and followed her nose - and her empathy - to wherever anyone needed reassurance, a hug, some calming breathing exercises or something a little more involved. The two of them had barely spoken to one another all day, although they had sent one another patients more than a few times.

As the sun set, they met on a rise a little way away from where they had set up camp. Neither of them was surprised to see the other, and neither of them spoke. They just looked at the wreckage of the Enterprise, and at the crew milling around the newly-lit campfires. All of them alive and accounted for. All of them safe, for now.

Beverly reached for Deanna’s hand. Deanna let her take it, and they stood there in the quiet for a few more minutes before descending again.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one came from a prompt meme on Tumblr - thanks for the prompt, flicka-gonna-fuck-you-up!

Deanna held her own in the fire fight, but once it was over her knees threatened to give way and her head swam, and it was only when Beverly gasped and said: ‘Deanna, you’re shot!’ that she noticed the scorched uniform peeling away at her shoulder, and felt the burning pain there. It was a hundred times worse, but somehow it reminded her of scraping the skin off her palms, playing on a gravelled path as a child. **  
**

‘Oh,’ she said, pointlessly.

Beverly was already there, pulling out her tricorder with one hand and, with the other, guiding Deanna to sit on a nearby wall.

‘You’re going to be fine,’ she said, eyes flickering between her readouts and Deanna’s pale face. ‘Don’t worry.’

Deanna’s empathic shields flickered and for a moment she sank in a wash of confused emotion - the rest of the away team, the fleeing attackers, the frightened locals - but she latched onto Beverly’s calm concentration and breathed, and that was enough to build them up again, safe and tight.

‘I wish I had something more than a basic medkit with me,’ Beverly said. ‘But this’ll do. I’m going to give you something for the pain, all right?’

‘All right,’ said Deanna.

The hypo hissed at her neck and, almost right away, the pain began to recede. Beverly was busy cutting the blackened fabric away from the wound with one hand, her other hand on Deanna’s unhurt shoulder, her thumb moving in unconscious soothing circles over Deanna’s collarbone. The rhythm of it slowed Deanna’s racing heart until it beat steadily again.

‘There we go,’ said Beverly, pressing gently on the adhesive edges of the temporary bandage she was applying. ‘Think you can manage until we make it back to the Enterprise?’

‘I’ll be fine,’ said Deanna, trying a smile.

Beverly smiled back and offered a hand to gently tug Deanna back to her feet. She held on for a moment after, gave Deanna’s hand a brief squeeze, and they turned their attention back to the mission.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> post-ep snippet for _Phantasms_.

Beverly had brushed her teeth, braided her hair, changed into her pyjamas and was just getting into bed with a hot drink and a book when her combadge chirped.

‘Troi to Crusher?’

‘Crusher here,’ she said.

‘Beverly… could you meet me outside Ten Forward?’

There was a tiny bit of a quaver to Deanna’s voice, almost undetectable.

‘I’m on my way,’ said Beverly.

She pulled her lab coat on over her pyjamas, found her slippers and headed out.

When she reached Ten Forward, Deanna was pacing outside, her arms wrapped around herself.

‘Beverly!’ she said, and then her face fell. ‘You’d already gone to bed - I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have made you come all this way…’

‘Nonsense,’ said Beverly. ‘Deanna, what’s wrong?’

Deanna shrugged. ‘It’s silly. I had a nice evening in Ten Forward, I was feeling fine, and now… I can’t get in the turbolift.’

‘Since Data…’ Beverly began.

Deanna nodded. ‘I know he would never deliberately hurt me, and it doesn’t even make me anxious to be around him, but the way he forced the doors open… every time I’ve used the turbolift this week, I’ve felt uneasy, but I thought it would just go away…’

‘I know you’re the ship’s counselor,’ said Beverly, ‘but are you talking to anybody about this?’

Deanna made a face. ‘I’ll deal with it, I promise. But right now I just need you to ride the turbolift back to my quarters with me.’

‘Of course,’ said Beverly, leading the way.

The ride was so swift that the doors had barely closed before they opened again, but Beverly saw the way Deanna’s whole body tensed, and relaxed again when they emerged into the corridor.

‘I’ll walk you to your quarters,’ she offered.

On the brief walk, they planned their next meeting to consult on their shared patients, and when they entered Deanna’s quarters Beverly went straight to the replicator, and pretended not to notice Deanna checking the rooms were empty.

‘I want you to drink this hot milk with nutmeg,’ she said, ‘and then go to bed.’

‘Yes, doctor,’ said Deanna meekly, taking the mug in both hands and breathing in the scent.

‘Want me to stay here?’

‘No, it’s all right. Thank you, Beverly. I’m sorry I interrupted your evening.’

‘Don’t ever apologise for that, all right?’

Deanna kissed her on the cheek. ‘All right. See you in the morning.’

‘See you in the morning,’ Beverly agreed, smiling over her shoulder as she left.


	9. Chapter 9

Even with all the sterilisation fields and up-to-the-minute temperature-control technology available on the Enterprise, after several hours of performing delicate, desperate surgery on a junior officer who had only that morning been excited to go on her first away mission, Beverly needed to shower. Even after peeling out of her surgical gown, she felt grimy and sticky. She was so tired that it was tempting to just fall into bed, in spite of the fact that it was barely evening, but she had to get clean first.

They’d saved Ensign Gelnt. She was going to be fine, eventually. Beverly’s aching limbs, the headache forming behind her eyes, were a small price to pay. She stood in the embrace of the shower, the sonic pulses gently soothing, until the last of her leftover adrenaline leached away and left the hollow feeling that always followed. Then she stepped out, wrapped herself in a robe, and went to get a glass of water.

The door chimed.

There were two or three people on the entire ship that Beverly wouldn’t mind seeing right now. When the door opened and she saw Deanna's face, her brittle social smile turned into a real one.

‘I just thought I’d take a few minutes and check on you,’ Deanna said. ‘But I can leave if it’s not a good time.’

‘No, come in,’ said Beverly. ‘I could use some company, at least for a little while.’

Without asking, Deanna went to the replicator to get herself some tea, and came back to sit on the sofa beside Beverly. She was grinning - trying to hide it, but not that hard.

‘What?’ Beverly asked.

‘It’s nothing.’

‘Deanna…’

‘Have you looked at your hair?’

She didn’t need to, she could imagine - her hair was always wild and tangled after escaping from the surgical hood, and the sonic shower tended to make it worse.

‘Oh god,’ she groaned. ‘I’ll deal with it later…’

‘Why don’t you let me take care of it?’ Deanna offered. ‘I know you’re tired.’

Beverly thought about protesting, but that sounded so good, and she knew Deanna would have already sensed the wave of relief that rippled through her at the thought of not having to do it herself. In fact, she was already rising and fetching Beverly’s brush from the bedroom.

‘Sit,’ she said, when she got back.

Obediently, Beverly sat on the floor in front of Deanna, and Deanna began to work. She was gentle, much gentler than Beverly would have been with herself. She started small, taking little sections and brushing the knots out with patient hands. She laid a hand on Beverly’s head to hold her still as she worked on a tricky tangle. Beverly sank back, leaning against Deanna’s knees, and closed her eyes. She heard a bottle open - some hair product, she wasn’t sure what - and then she smelled something like honey as Deanna massaged it into the roots, the pads of her fingers moving in little circles against Beverly’s scalp.

Beverly breathed in the honey scent and sighed. Deanna made a satisfied sound under her breath. After that Beverly lost track of things for a little while, sinking into a fuzzy cloud of half-awake, only dimly aware of Deanna’s hands, slowing gradually to a stop, then moving away for a moment to pick up the brush again.

Without having really noticed it, Beverly was awake again. The brush moved with slow, steady strokes now, and firm pressure. Occasionally Deanna’s fingers brushed the skin on the back of Beverly’s neck. Beverly’s breathing was slow and deep, in time with the brush moving, smoothly now, through her hair.

It was probably done twice over, but Beverly didn’t suggest stopping, and Deanna kept going, humming something almost inaudible as she worked. Beverly drowsed, cosy in her bubble, her thoughts wandering everywhere and nowhere. Finally Deanna slowed, then stopped, kissing the top of Beverly’s head to mark the completion of her task.

‘Why don’t you get some sleep?’ she suggested.

‘I think I already am,’ Beverly laughed. ‘Thanks, Deanna.’

‘Any time.’

Deanna got up, gave Beverly’s hand a quick squeeze, and was gone. Beverly stood, wandered to the bedroom, shrugged off her robe and pulled on her pyjamas instead, and slept the moment the lights were off.


End file.
